“You know what I want. What I’ve always wanted. Your husband.”
“And you think this is going to help you? A little charge from a store?” Troy tried to sound unmoved, but she knew the weight of what Myrtle was measuring. With so much already stacked against her, this could bury her, push her right into a grave and pour the dirt on top. Where she was from, the total in the margin wasn’t a big deal, but being the preacher’s wife, such a big charge at such a place for any reason was unacceptable. She’d pay for it. Kyle would pay for it. The church would pay for it.
“Your little show is over, Troy Smith,” Myrtle said. “You’re no more fit to be a preacher’s wife than a pig. And now I have proof.”
“So you’re going to show everyone this? You’d do that just to get rid of me?”
“Not exactly. I don’t think it’s necessary to show everyone this little bank statement…just to get rid of you,” Myrtle explained coolly. “I know what something like this could do to Kyle, to the church. It would ruin everything. I can’t have that. Not over some silly little purchase.”
Troy sat silently, her body shaking in fear as she waited for Myrtle to finish.
“Leave him,” Myrtle said.
“What?”
“Leave him. If you love him. If you love the church and you don’t want to ruin everything he’s worked so hard for, leave him,” Myrtle said. “If you don’t I’ll take it to the board of trustees and you’ll lose him anyway. You ever see a man after you take his dream from him?”
“This is ridiculous. This doesn’t make any sense,” Troy rambled. “I could just pay the money back, say it was a mistake. Say I—”
“The record stands. It doesn’t matter what you do now,” Myrtle said. “I have the statement. I have the proof. Elizabeth knows. And it’ll only be a little itty-bitty bit of time before everyone else does.” Myrtle paused and looked out the window. “Now I know this is all sudden for you and you’re probably going to need some time to think about it. But I’m telling you now, there’s only one thing you can do. If you love that man like you claim you do, you’ll leave the church and leave him. You haven’t changed a bit. It’s been two years and you still continue with your old games. It’s time for you to make a new decision. You can’t save yourself, but you can save Kyle.”
Troy looked down at entry 31 again. A tear fell and stained the page, blurring the black ink. How could she have been so stupid, she thought, remembering the afternoon when she’d handed the woman at the store the card. She knew people were watching her. She knew Myrtle was watching her. She couldn’t let anything happen to the church. To Kyle. And she knew in her heart Myrtle was right. This would ruin him.
“How long do I have?” Troy asked.
“I’ll call you,” Myrtle revealed, though inside she couldn’t believe Troy had given in so easily. She’d been working on Troy for months, waiting for her to slip up and step out of line. The bank statement, when Elizabeth had brought it to her, was a total surprise. She thought for sure Troy would know not to mess with the church’s money. “You’ll know,” Myrtle added.
8
I used to want the words “She tried” on my tombstone. Now I want “She did it.”
—Katherine Dunham
Baba beat on his drum. The Royal Anhk was shining brightly. The tree was surrounded with people. There were the regulars—the dreads, the dancers, the believers, the worshippers, and the women of the earth. But in the middle—something unexpected. Two who were quite the same. One was carrying her new Ferragamo-studded clutch and red devils; the other, a pair of actual, real tennis shoes (for playing tennis) and couture jeans. Shoulder to shoulder, Tasha and Troy were the odd ones. Yet, they looked around as if surrounded by oddness.
“What the holy hell is this?” Tasha said. “She’s crazy. Worshipping the devil. All of them.”
She pointed to a man who was tossing a stick of fire.
“If they bring out a chicken, I’m leaving,” she added.
“They are not devil worshippers,” Troy said. “Right?” She pulled her sleeve down to cover a pearl bracelet.
“No need to cover up the bracelet,” Tasha said. “You need to cover up those sneakers.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes? Tamia said to wear something comfortable. She said we’d be in the grass.”
“I’m sure she didn’t end with advising you to wear something that was sure to get us jumped. If they decide to do a sacrifice, you’re up first.”
The drumming became louder, more fierce. The crowd began to form a circle and soon Tamia and her sisters were facing the world as one. They’d come to the next stage of enlightenment and were ready to see the world.
As the brothers had been just months ago, the sisters were dressed in white, their chosen symbols painted on their chest.
Tamia was the Sankofa. The bird. The return to the Essence.
“She looks beautiful, just beautiful,” Troy cried, waving to Tamia as she chanted now for guidance from the Creator.
“She’s so thin,” Tasha remarked, looking at Tamia’s now-slender frame. “What kind of diet is she on?”